


The Hound & The Little Bird

by DaronwyK



Series: Game of Thrones Collection [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Episode Fix-it: s08e04 The Last of the Starks, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20939117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: The Hound wants Sansa to know that she was strong all along.





	The Hound & The Little Bird

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I wish the Hound had said to Sansa during their reunion.

It was late when the pounding started at Sansa’s door. She’d retired from the Hall not long after speaking with Sandor, not wanting to fend off the attentions of men who’d drank too much to show any sense. She wasn’t in bed, too much running through her mind tonight to find easy rest. She slept very little these days, but that was hardly surprising. Threats were everywhere, and her grip on safety was tenuous. The pounding continued, and her feet took her to the door. Somehow she knew it was him.

“Who’s there?” she called, not pulling back the bolt.

“Who the fuck else would it be?” The Hound’s coarse voice was strangely reassuring. She pulled back the bolt and let him in. With nearly the entire castle deep in their cups, there would be no one to notice him in her rooms. He was one of the few men in the world that didn’t make her feel threatened.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, raising her eyebrows as he stalked over to the fire, staring into the flames. His body radiated tension, something was bothering him. It was a rare thing to see the Hound undone, but this was twice now that she’d seen him this disturbed.

“You’re not strong because of them,” he said and looked over at her. “You were always tougher than you looked. You never would have survived if you weren’t. Don’t ever say anything that fucking stupid again.” He turned his head back to stare into the flames of the hearth.

Sansa walked over to stand beside him, his words making tears sting at her eyes.

“That’s why that little blonde bastard was so cruel to you. He murdered your father and it didn’t break you. He beat you and it didn’t break you. They slaughtered most of your family, and still it didn’t break you. I don’t know if anything could.” He turned his gaze from the fire to look at her for a long moment. “I saw it that day on the ramparts, when you nearly tossed him to his death. You’d have done it then, if I hadn’t stopped you. This tiny little slip of a girl had more balls than any man in the Keep.” His tone was gruff as ever, but the sentiment was uncharacteristically soft.

“I didn’t feel strong then.” She shook her head. They were standing so close now, mere inches between them, and still she wasn’t afraid. 

“That’s why I was there, to be strong for you…until you didn’t need me. You should have come with me, Little Bird,” he said.

“I wish I had.” Here, she could admit that much. She curled her fingers into a tight ball to keep from reaching out to touch him.

“What’s keeping you up then? Shouldn’t nice proper ladies be asleep by now?” He lifted an eyebrow and shifted his body away from her, as if aware of the simmering tension between them. 

“I don’t sleep well anymore, especially not with this many strangers in the castle.” She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling somehow colder as he moved away. 

“You should get yourself a dog, something to guard you at night,” he said.

“Brienne normally stands guard, but…” She shrugged elegantly. She had a feeling Brienne was off on more pleasurable pursuits tonight.

“But she’s off fucking the Kingslayer,” he snorted.

“Well, she deserves some happiness.” Sansa’s smile turned sad. That was something she’d never have, or at least it didn’t seem likely. At least one of them should celebrate still being alive at the end of all this. In truth, she didn’t really feel all that alive, more like she was stuck in between life and death…just existing.

“She’s not the only one.” He moved closer again. “Don’t let Ramsey fuck you from the grave forever, fucking twat doesn’t deserve that kind of power,” The Hound said with a hard shake of his head. 

“I don’t know that I could ever trust anyone after that. It wasn’t just…rough. The things he did to me…it’s safer to stay alone.” From anyone else, the words would sound cruel and callous, but it was just the Hound’s way. This was the first time she’d really talked about it, to anyone. Strange that Sandor Clegane had become her confessor about the horrors Ramsay had visited on her body. 

“Find yourself someone gentle, and let them help you forget. Don’t end up alone Little Bird, its shit.” He moved back from the fire, and into the middle of the room. “I’ll be leaving for King’s Landing soon; you won’t see me again.”

“You’ll always have a place here, if you want it, Sandor,” Sansa said softly and moved forward, leaning up to brush a kiss against his cheek. The scarred flesh was rough under her lips, but it was the only way she could say without words what he meant to her. “But if I don’t see you again, thank you and good luck. I hope you make your brother pay for everything he did to you.” She saw the flicker of surprise across his face. He raised a hand, calloused fingertips skimming the edge of her cheek. With some shock she realized that she wanted him to touch her. To let them both forget their pain for a while. She also knew that he never would. His hand dropped, as if her skin burned him.

“Take care of yourself, little bird. I know you can now,” he said, something catching in his voice as he turned and left her room. 

Sansa drew the bolt across and wiped fresh tears from her face, knowing in her heart that this was goodbye. Like so many others, she would never see The Hound again.


End file.
